


peitho's jewel

by brujsedbones



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Admiration, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Awkward Flirting, Dress Up, Facials, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Lapdance, M/M, Mark Has A Great Body, Nipple Piercings, Riding, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-17 23:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18108353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujsedbones/pseuds/brujsedbones
Summary: When Taeyong comes slithering into Yukhei's apartment telling him to get dressed because they’re going out, he only does as he’s told and hopes for the best.When they show up at the club, Peitho’s, Yukhei just stares at him. “Really? A strip club?”





	peitho's jewel

**Author's Note:**

> mbmc asked and I delivered <3

Yukhei is seriously going to have to buy Taeyong a yacht or something.

It starts when Taeyong drags him to a strip club. He’s doing something that doesn’t concern Yukhei _at all_ —searching for a good candidate for a third party to join him and Taeil—but going to a strip club alone sounds miserable. That’s where Yukhei comes in.

They’ve been best friends since high school and through college, something Taeyong never lets him forget when he wants to guilt Yukhei into something. As graduate student taking a gap year before going to medical school, Yukhei doesn’t really get to have a lot of fun since he’s working all the time. So when Taeyong comes slithering into his apartment telling him to get dressed because they’re going out, he only does as he’s told and hopes for the best.

When they show up at the club, Peitho’s, Yukhei just stares at him. “Really? A strip club?”

Taeyong smiles, pulling Yukhei towards the door. Once they get inside and get seated, Taeyong pulls out five neatly folded stacks of money. He hands two of them to Yukhei.

“There’s 200,000 won in each of those stacks. Spend it wisely,” he says.

Yukhei’s eyes get big, trying to give the money back. “Taeyong, I can’t take—”

“Hush, child,” Taeyong says, patting his head. “You can and you will. The shows are starting.”

Yukhei watches all of the dancers politely. They are all very attractive and enticing, but nothing worth spending his (Taeyong’s) money on. He briefly considers pocketing the money and just returning home for another night alone with his fist, but before he can, the announcer is clearing his throat.

“I know you’ve all been waiting for him,” the MC, an eccentric young man named Doyoung, says, “everyone give a warm Peitho’s welcome to Kitten!”

The first thought that passes through Yukhei’s name is _what a fucking tacky ass name_ but the next thought is _holy shit._ He can barely hear his own thoughts over the intoxicated bellowing of the other patrons, men and women alike; Kitten seems to be a house favorite. And looking at him, Yukhei can understand why.

The spotlight comes on to reveal a young man standing on the stage. One leg is extended out to the side and the opposite hand rests atop his hip. His face is pointed downward, likely waiting for the music before starting his routine, so Yukhei can’t see it yet, but Kitten’s attire and figure alone have drawn him in.

Yukhei takes a good long few seconds to drink him in. Kitten’s torso is hidden underneath a loose white t-shirt, but that’s about as plain as his outfit gets. The dancer has donned broad patterned fishnet tights and dainty white gloves that reach up to his elbows and cling to him like a second skin. He seems tall at first glance, but that may be because of the black thigh high boots he is wearing.

Yukhei went to an all boys private high school and was a pre-med major in college. He’s seen and been around a lot of men in his life, but he’s never seen a man so shapely. Kitten is so curvaceous that he appears almost feminine, with long legs a beautiful, round ass that Yukhei would smack were he not so polite. He has thighs to match, rippling beneath the fishnets that are stretched tight over the musculature. The performer has broad shoulders, and despite not being able to see it beneath the baggy shirt, Yukhei would bet an entire year’s salary that it slims down into a tiny, barely there waist.

His body is lean, athletic, captivating even when still. He briefly raises his arms over his head to stretch, and Yukhei is treated to an eyeful of little black boy shorts that he had not previously known were there. They frame a mouth watering little bulge that makes Yukhei’s own dick ache in his pants.

The audio hasn’t begun playing yet, some kind of technology failure, and people are starting to look around the balcony and yell out curses. Kitten lifts his head to give the audience a placating smile and apologize for the delay and _oh god,_ he’s cute. Strippers are not supposed to be cute.

The music finally, _finally_ starts up, and Yukhei feels like he gets whiplash from how quickly the performer’s eyes change. The playful, coquettish light vanishes and is replaced by something darker, more sultry. Yukhei swallows around his dry throat.

Still stationary, the dancer slowly trails a hand up his thigh and chest as well, raising the hem of his shirt to show his softly defined abs. It should seem tacky, like some contrived boy group move, but the way Kitten does it oozes sex appeal. Kitten starts to swing his hips, gyrating them slowly as the beat of music builds and builds.

The gloves come off first. They’re so tight that Yukhei anticipates conflict, but Kitten wouldn’t be so highly sought after if he was awkward and inexperienced. The accessories are slowly peeled away then haphazardly tossed into the audience. The boots are next, zipper dragged down each sculpted calf until Kitten can step onto the stage with almost bare feet. It’s all done with a sort of slinkiness that Yukhei has never seen, registering him speechless and making him reach into his pockets for the money.

The shirt comes off next, ripped most of the way down the middle to display a nicely muscled torso. Where the ruined fabric hangs, Yukhei sees a flash of silver and he almost has a heart attack as he processes the fact that Kitten has nipple piercings. Two little studs on either side of the little brown nub.

The exotic dancer hooks one meaty thigh backward, capturing the pole between his muscles. Yukhei watches in complete awe as he raises himself off of the ground and spirals around the pole. Even if he wanted to, Yukhei couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.

Kitten arches back, showing off his long neck and a lovely degree of flexibility. As he moves, Yukhei can see each of Kitten’s muscles working across his legs, abdomen and arms and _ass_ . His ass could be classified as a national treasure. It’s just so...large, so full, so _juicy,_ and although Yukhei is hesitant to use such an ill favored, unattractive word, he’s fairly sure he’s never wanted someone to sit on his face this badly.

The dancer, appropriately named, works with catlike reflexes, showing a kind of skill that is almost acrobatic. His strong thighs hold the pole in a vise grip as he leans back and looks into the crowd, giving one lucky patron a flirtatious wink and a sexy little smile. Yukhei feels himself leaning forward, following the arch of the stripper’s body, the curve of his spine, the sharp, chiseled muscles that seem to make up his entire body.

Yukhei had been coerced into fishnets many times back in his college prime, and he knows first hand how hard it is to get them up over legs in the first place. The fact that Kitten has pulled them over his broad, muscular thighs without a rip or tear in sight is a testament to his strength. Okay—not really, but it’s still really fucking hot to watch the muscles ripple beneath the barely there fabric.

He comes to the conclusion that Kitten is just very skilled at his craft. His movements are so fluid and sensual, matching the beat of the music. Just watching Kitten strip from a distance sparks warmth in Yukhei’s nether regions, a feat not accomplished by any other dancer he’s seen tonight.

Despite taking them off, there’s no doubt in Yukhei’s mind that Kitten could do all of this with the boots on. He has an unbelievable amount of control over his body; each move has purpose and balance and grace. It’s hard not to be invested.

Yukhei is so entranced, in fact, that he barely notices the other patrons throwing money on the stage, “making it rain” they say. The routine is coming to a close, based on the descending of the chords in the song. Fearing that he’ll miss his chance to tip (pay? he’s still unsure about the stripper terminology) such an amazing, thorough performer, Yukhei doesn’t even think before tossing one of the wads on the stage.

It lands with a _thud_ at the base of the pole, and Kitten sees it as he returns his feet to the stage gracefully. Even if he hadn’t been able to locate its origin just with his eyes, he would have figured it out due to Taeyong’s humiliating windshield wiper laugh when he figures out what Yukhei’s done.

Kitten bows to the audience and they cheer for him wildly. Right before the lights on the stage go dark, Yukhei catches his eye, and the dancer gives him a tiny grin. He’s _amused_ because instead of making it rain with bills, Yukhei had just thrown a wad of neatly pressed bills at him, held together by a rubber band.

When the lights come back on, all the money on the stage is gone, and so is Kitten. Yukhei slumps against the table.

Taeyong begins to laugh at him hysterically. “You know,” he chokes out between giggles, “you’re supposed to unfold the money before you throw it at the stripper, right?”

“I panicked!” Yukhei whines, burying his head even further into his folded elbows. “I wanted to make sure he got his money before the song ended.”

Taeyong pats his head. “Oh, you sweet child.”

Yukhei doesn’t like his tone at all. “Maybe he was a fan of it. Now he doesn’t have to clamber all over the stage like an infant just to get what he earned.”

Taeyong just nods at the point and tosses down the rest of his drink. He uses his own glass to gestures to Yukhei’s. “You want another?”

“Yeah, I’ll just take whatever you’re drinking,” Yukhei says. He feels lighter, exhilarated. Kitten’s performance has removed a little bit of his stress.

Taeyong’s been a little while and Yukhei is about to pull out his phone, but all of a sudden there’s uproarious applause. He startles, looking around for the cause of the commotion. Lo and behold, he sees Kitten walking around and collecting extra tips that people didn’t throw while he was on stage. Not only did Yukhei make a fool out of himself by throwing a pressed block of cash on the stage, but it could have been avoided completely.

Yukhei panics when the dancer starts to walk his way. He searches around frantically for Taeyong, but he’s nowhere in close proximity. Yukhei heaves a sigh as Kitten comes closer.

The dancer hears it as he walks up to the table, shirt still sinfully ripped in half. “What’s the matter, handsome? Not happy to see me?”

His throat seizes up. “No, I was just...waiting for my frie—”

“Ah, yes, TY,” Kitten says. “He’s always very generous. I’m glad he brought someone along who shares the same virtues.”

If Kitten keeps looking at him like that, like a meal he wants to devour, Yukhei might just become the most generous man in the world. He’d empty all of his accounts and sell all of his belongings just to please this dancer who has a body that’s made of liquid sex.

Yukhei suddenly remembers the other wad in his pocket. He pulls it out and carefully undoes the rubber band, doing his best not to rip any of the bills. He spreads them out a little, awkwardly gesturing in the general direction of Kitten’s crotch, not entirely sure how to act. He wants to give the performer the money, but he isn't sure quite how close to get to the man, for fear of being disrespectful.

“Where do I…..?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed.

His eyes dart up to see Kitten, visibly amused, smiling at him. He seems to be eating it up.  
  
“Anywhere you would like,” Kitten says and Yukhei does his best not to tremble at the purr in the man’s voice. Kitten thumbs the waistband of his impossibly tiny shorts, finger brushing along the rim and reaching all the way to the back. He turns around to show Yukhei his ass and dear god, the shorts have gotten stuck between his cheeks.

Kitten turns around, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and as looking up through his eyelashes. He keeps his eyes on Yukhei this time as he speaks, “But right here is most comfortable.”

Yukhei, blushing wildly, tucks the thick stack of bills between the dancer’s shorts and skin, closer to his hips than to his ass. He’s hyperaware of the way his thumbs press into Kitten’s skin, hot and soft to the touch.

“Thanks, handsome,” Kitten purrs with a wink, “I hope you enjoy your night.”

“You too,” Yukhei replies stupidly, and he can see the dancer’s shoulders shaking with laughter as he walks away.

By this point, Yukhei is tired of making a fool of himself. He wants to take his drink, chug it down and leave, spend a good few hours masturbating like a teenager to thoughts of Kitten. He’s stands, preparing to walk over to the bar and find out what’s taking Taeyong so damn long, but he gets stopped by the intercom.

“Xuxi, please go upstairs to the Vancouver room.”

Yukhei startles. That’s his name, the one nobody in this establishment but Taeyong knows.

The culprit walks towards him, grinning and folding his wallet. “Go on upstairs.”

“What did you do?” Yukhei hisses as they repeat his name on the intercom.

“I bought you a private session to thank you for coming with me,” Taeyong says simply.

Yukhei can’t even make his mouth answer. They call his name a final time, and Taeyong blows him a kiss and shoves him in the direction of the stairs. People start cheering immediately—it seems like everyone but Yukhei knows what’s in the Vancouver room.

He takes the winding staircase up to the balcony and MC Doyoung points him in the direction of the hall. He passes a few doors on each side, each labeled with a geographical location. There’s a Jeju door, a Chicago door, a Bangkok door, and a Jilin door among others. At the very end of the hall, is the Vancouver room, much bigger than the others.

Yukhei knocks on the closed door, and is immensely confused when there’s laughter intermingled with the response, a quiet “come in”.

Yukhei freezes in his spot when he sees none other than Kitten, leaning against a vanity with his back (and ass) to the door. He looks at Yukhei through the mirror, waving him in.

Yukhei just closes the door behind him. “Um. Hi.”

Kitten turns around with a smile on his lips and a new, unripped shirt on his chest. “Hi, Xuxi.”

Unsure of what to say and do in this kind of situation, Yukhei starts with the obvious. “You have on a new shirt.”

The dancer quirks an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s true. I put on a new one in case you wanted to rip it off of me yourself, with those gargantuan hands of yours.”

Yukhei’s throat dries up. “I could do that?”

“This your first time at a strip club?” Kitten asks, amused but not unkind. He continues on when Yukhei nods, “I can tell. Most patrons aren’t so...polite.”

Yukhei wrinkles his nose at that. “Really? That’s kind of shitty, dude.”

Kitten shrugs at him. “I’m usually servicing dirty old—I mean, elderly men who want a piece of young flesh and a tight hole before going back to their wives and corporate job. They’re not concerned with how I feel.”

Yukhei is deeply unsettled by the brief look he just got into the dancer’s life. He decides to change the subject.

“When you said I could rip your shirt off...you meant that?”

Kitten gives him a lopsided smile. “Of course. You have me to yourself for an hour. You can do pretty much everything you want to me once your butt hits that couch.”

Yukhei’s abdomen tightens in anticipation. “Is there anything I can’t do? I see there are ‘NO SEX’ signs all down the hall.”

“ _You_ can’t come up here looking for sex. But if _I_ wanted sex and you were willing,” Kitten says, walking closer until he’s a mere few centimeters from Yukhei, “we could fuck in here for the whole hour.”

Yukhei feels a little lightheaded from how they’re face to face. Those damn boots are giving the stripper an edge.

“What do people usually get in here?” he squeaks out.

Kitten thinks it over. “A strip tease and lap dance, usually.”

“I will take the usual,” he says, slipping past him to sit on the couch. The dancer watches him with a small smile before going to turn on the music and start the timer.

The music flows from the speakers and Kitten stalks over, legs long and full. He comes to a halt in front of Yukhei, between his spread legs, and grabs the hem of his t-shirt. He lifts it up as he rolls his hips slowly, in time with music. Yukhei mourns not being able to tear his shirt off like an animal, but he can’t mind too much when he gets to watch Kitten’ abs ripple, much more defined in close proximity.

Yukhei is unsubtle in the way his eyes hungrily trail over Kitten’s tight little body, his hands clutching onto the armrests for dear life. He watches the fluidity of movement, intrigued and careful not to miss a single swing of hips or flexion of quads. 

Kitten comes closer, sliding his fingers into the elastic of his shorts, and exposing his toned lower stomach. He turns around to sit in Yukhei’s lap, moving his hips to rub against his clothed dick. A hot rush of air comes from Yukhei’s chest at the feeling, and he’s one hundred percent sure Kitten hears it and smiles.

He turns to face Yukhei before straddling him, and keeps moving his wonderfully sinful hips on him in time with music. He grins, _grins,_ when he feels Yukhei’s inevitable erection press against him through the layers of clothing, his eyes closing in delight.

Yukhei is gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles are white. He sees Kitten’s eyes flicker down to them and is briefly ashamed before he remembers that Kitten is a stripper. He must see this a lot.

Kitten leans in, moving his lips to Yukhei’s hear, feeling proud at how red they are.

“You like this, Xuxi?”

Yukhei physically starts at the sound of that name coming out of Kitten’s pretty mouth. He nods frantically, to which the dancer laughs and shifts slightly in his lap.

“You can touch me if you like,” Kitten whispers, hips rolling forward as he speaks, mouth hovering scant inches from Yukhei’s.

Yukhei's hands go to his ass, squeezing hard. Kitten lets out a surprised little moan and cards his fingers through Yukhei's hair.

This is a position Yukhei knows Kitten ends up in a lot, but it feels electric to him. Kitten pushes right up against him, grabbing the back of the sofa for support and starts grinding their hips together. Just as Kitten gets a good rhythm going and he’s starting to get into it, Yukhei accidentally ruts his hips up. Kitten blinks down at him, startled, before taking it as a challenge and grinding down harder.

“What’s happening?” Yukhei murmurs aloud as he pulls Kitten closer to him.

“You’re too hot,” Kitten whines. “I want to make you come. Can I?”

“Yeah. Please. Can I?” Yukhei repeats back to him, and Kitten stiffens like he’s been slapped, like he’s ever heard such a question.

“Yeah...yeah, you can,” he breathes out after a short moment, leaning in slightly. He seems to stop himself, as if suddenly remembering that they’re not lovers and they should not kiss.

Yukhei pretends not to notice and lets his eyes become glued to Kitten’s body, drowning in the sight of his naked skin and toned muscles. He’s tempted to get them both off like this: to grip Kitten’s shapely ass in both hands and grind their cocks together, maybe flip their positions and haul Kitten’s leg up over his hip, rut into him crude and disgusting until they’re both coming in their respective undergarments.

He’s half sure Kitten would let him do it too. The dancer looks completely wanton, his lips primrose pink and half open, his eyes blown wide. Yukhei would normally feel self-conscious about how intently he's watching, but Kitten is murmuring his name under his breath, diluted little “Xuxi, Xuxi, Xuxi”s that make him rock his hips harder.

Kitten presses closer to adjust his grip on the sofa, and Yukhei suddenly has an eyeful of silver metal. Experimentally, he scratches a nail over one nipple while taking the second between his teeth and sucking. He bites gently, then less gently when Kitten swears and caresses the back of his head.

“Xuxi, please,” Kitten moans, and Yukhei feels all of the remaining blood in his body rush to his crotch, “They’re sensitive.”

That only delights Yukhei more. He pinches each nipple between his fingers before taking them into his mouth until they are wet and rosy.

He nips on the edge of one piercing, pulls on it gently until Kitten rewards him with breathy little whines from the back of his throat. He does it again and again, watching through his lashes as Kitten’s head lolls back, chest pushed out in hypersensitivity.

“Yes, Xuxi,” Kitten whimpers, words raspy through the arch of his throat. Yukhei can’t imagine functioning on a day to day basis with this kind of sensitivity.

Kitten’s hand shifts to the back of his head as he teases him, fingers threading through Yukhei’s hair and guiding his head into a rhythm like Yukhei is going down on him instead of just suckling at one of his nipples.

Yukhei lets his nipple free with a small _pop_ before murmuring, “Can I fuck you now?”

“Please,” the dancer says, shifting off of his lap to rummage around on his vanity. He returns with a bottle of lube, nearly full, and a condom, and presses both into Yukhei’s palm.

“Not much action?” Yukhei jokes, pouring the lubricant into his hand and watching Kitten do away with his shorts.

“I’ve never wanted this on the job,” the dancer admits, pulling his fishnets to the side and making it easier for Yukhei to open him up.

Something about that fact pleases Yukhei greatly, and he rewards the statement with a thick, long finger pushing past the rim. Kitten gasps, leaning forward, but Yukhei sucks a nipple into his mouth before the atmosphere becomes too uncomfortable.

Kitten’s sensitivity on his chest completely absorbs and overshadows any discomfort he might feel by being fingered, and Yukhei is eternally grateful for it. Kitten only lets out tiny whimpers as Yukhei pushes his fingers inside, but a tiny cry breaches the air when he begins to scissor them.

Yukhei pulls his fingers out, deeming him ready, and Kitten stands up and eagerly begins to undo Yukhei’s belt buckle. Yukhei struggles to get his shirt off because of the sweat sticking to his back, but when he finally wrestles the thing off, Kitten is looking at his dick with wide blown eyes.

“Is it going to fit?” he wonders aloud, and for some odd, stupid reason, that makes Yukhei’s cheeks color.

“I made sure of it. Now come here,” he says. Kitten listens to him, absentmindedly running a hand down Yukhei’s chest.

“So good-looking,” he sighs, and man, Yukhei really needs to stop blushing at the most minuscule of things. He puts the condom on, slathers his dick in lube and goes to pull the fishnets out of the way like he did before, but even when stretched, the tights don’t leave much room for his dick.

“Can I rip these?” Yukhei asks, not knowing how much they cost and not wanting to become an inconvenience.

“Stop being so polite,” Kitten demands. “Rip them open and fuck me.”

Yukhei floods with heat immediately. The tangles his fingers in the fabric and pulls, and the loud ripping sound that tears through the air is immensely satisfying, although not as satisfying as Kitten sinking down on his cock himself.

He starts bouncing up and down immediately, taking Yukhei to the hilt at once. Yukhei’s shocked but really fucking into it, curling his hands around Kitten’s thighs. Looking down at them, it's like they’re competing over which one is the biggest, and the idea makes Yukhei’s toes curl.

Kitten becomes fatigued quickly, that much Yukhei can tell. His hands travel to the dancer’s ass instead, gripping it hard and delivering a powerful drive upwards. Kitten moans, forehead falling forward to rest on Yukhei’s shoulder, and he takes that as a sign to continue. He holds Kitten’s cheeks in his palms, pressing them together as he fucks inside.

When Yukhei’s forearms start to burn with effort, he spreads Kitten’s ass apart instead. He guides the smaller man up and down his cock, periodically canting his hips upward at the same time. He buries himself deeper in Kitten this way, who’s breath comes out in stuttered pants.

“Shit,” Kitten swears as he clenches around Yukhei’s length. Yukhei’s not sure if it was intentional or not, but Kitten keeps doing it and it’s deteriorating his self control quicker than he would like to admit. There's loud clapping sounds echoing around the room whenever their thighs meet, and they drown out everything, even the sound of Kitten panting against Yukhei's neck.

He elongates his thrusts, pulling out until only the tip remains before slamming Kitten back down. The dancer cries out and slumps against his chest but Yukhei doesn’t really mind; he peeks over Kitten’s shoulder and watches how his ass jiggles with every earth shattering thrust, how his hole practically sucks Yukhei in with every pass. 

He’s paying such rapt attention to the dancer’s anatomy that he doesn’t even feel his own orgasm coming on, and it slams into him with the force of a freight train. He gasps, tucking his chin over Kitten’s shoulder as he empties himself into the condom.

Yukhei doesn’t even let Kitten get off of him, just takes his cock in his hand and starts to jack him off to completion.

Kitten’s hand moves up his side, looking for somewhere to catch and it settles for the curve of Yukhei's shoulder. His fingers dig into the muscle there and Kitten groans when Yukhei tightens his grip and sweeps his thumb over the head with each upward stroke.

Yukhei presses his thumb into Kitten’s slit just to hear him gasp. Wetness pools in Yukhei’s hand, between his fingers and in his palm and Kitten moans shamelessly, head thrown back, exposing his beautiful throat.

And then Yukhei's drowning in the sensation of Kitten’s release, coming thick and hot on his face. It hits the curve of his lip and the flat of his tongue, and it’s so much fucking hotter than he was expecting. Kitten makes a noise that sounds helpless and broken, but he manages an open mouthed grin as he chases the stream of cum that drips from Yukhei’s chin.

When Kitten finally comes back down to Earth, his cheeks turn pink. “Um.”

“Uh,” Yukhei says back.

“I haven’t really...done that before,” Kitten admits shyly. “Thank you for making it good.”

Yukhei’s mouth drops open. “You were a virgin?”

Kitten claps a hand over his mouth. “No, oh my god. I just haven’t slept with a patron before.”

Yukhei feels an idiotic swell of pride for being Kitten’s first something. “Well, Kitten, I’m glad it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me.”

“You can call me Mark, by the way,” Kitten-Mark tells him.

He is met with a strange look from Yukhei. “Is this something you do often? Tell your customers your real name?”

“Good god, no,” Mark denies, shaking his hands in front of him and shuddering at the mere idea, “we just run in the same circles. I don’t mind you knowing my name.”

That throws Yukhei for a loop. “We do?”

Mark gives him a blank look. “Your best friend is dating my little brother, man.”

“Taeyong?” Yukhei’s eyebrows raise, because Taeil is old as hell. There’s no way he’s Mark’s little brother.

“No, the other one. Jeno,” Mark clarifies.

Something clicks in Yukhei’s head then. “ _You’re_ Donghyuck’s hot older brother that Jeno always talks about?”

A smattering of pink shows itself on Mark’s cheeks. “I didn’t know about...the other stuff.”

“Not important,” Yukhei says.

“We have some time left…” Mark trails off. “Wanna talk?”

“Talking sounds good,” Yukhei agrees.

They don’t talk—Yukhei gets on his knees and eats Mark out against the couch, and it feels so good that they both ignore the timer going off a few minutes later.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> peitho is the greek goddess of persuasion and seduction
> 
> for mbmc.....I luv u all mwah
> 
> this was so difficult to write and I did it in so little time.....I am proud of myself
> 
> thank you for reading!!
> 
> 190315  
> -M


End file.
